


Guilty Tugging

by evilwriter37



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Consensual Incest, F/M, Incest, Kissing, Sibling Incest, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 17:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19909819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Heather has been feeling a tug towards Dagur ever since she reunited with him, an urge that she didn't realize she had to fulfill... that is, until Dagur slammed her against a wall and went for her lips.





	Guilty Tugging

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write this kind of thing, but I do ship Heather/Dagur due to all the subtext in the show with them. Was inspired to write this out of spite due to a fandom policer hating this kind of thing. Sorry that it's basically canon. _shrug emoji_ Don't like, don't read.

Heather wasn’t shocked the first time Dagur kissed her. He’d been looking at her like he wanted to for quite some time, like he wanted to do more than kissing, undressing her with his eyes. 

And Heather couldn’t help but admit that she’d been doing the same thing. She wanted to see what Dagur’s armor was covering, what his abdomen looked like bare, what he was hiding between his legs. She didn’t know why. From the first time she’d met him, even with burning fury, there had been attraction and lust, like they were magnets being pulled towards each other. It was inevitable.

He’d taken her by the waist and shoved her against the wall. They were below deck on a Hunter ship. It was the middle of the day, so hopefully everyone was above deck and wouldn’t see them.

His lips were rough and wanting, passionate and hungry. Heather was hesitant at first, not moving her mouth with his, just taking it, but as he kissed her, that pull towards him came to the forefront of her senses. She couldn’t fight it. So, she kissed back fervently, grabbing him by the back of the neck and his unruly red hair. She briefly wondered why she hadn’t ended up with red hair, but she was okay with that. They didn’t need the same hair. They had the same eyes.

“Dagur, what are you doing?” Heather asked breathlessly.

“ _We_ ,” Dagur corrected, looking at her mouth with quite the appetite, not her eyes. Though, his gaze did flick up for a moment, hot and heavy, before going back down to her mouth. Without an explanation, he kissed her again, hard, and Heather took it, found herself enjoying it. Hatred, guilt, and shame rose up, but she shoved it all down in favor of this, in fulfilling this unexplainable tugging she felt towards him. That tugging was pulling them together, making them press their mouths and their hands and their bodies together.

Gasping, they both pulled away, and Dagur was taking her by the wrist, leading her down the narrow hallway. They came through a door, most likely his quarters. It was just one room, but bigger than the one she’d been given, more personalized than hers. There were weapons hanging in the room, and a rug made of white wolf fur. The bed wasn’t big enough for two people side-by-side, but they wouldn’t be side-by-side.

“What are _we_ doing?” Heather asked, rephrasing the question.

“You feel it too, right?” Dagur asked. He closed the door, came up behind her, began unbuckling her belts and her armor. He drew his mouth over her right ear, and it made her burn between her legs. He nipped at her, her belts falling to the floor. “This… attraction, this pull.” He breathed deeply, his breath pleasantly hot on her. 

“I do.” Her voice was airy. Wetness gathered in her core.

“Good.” Her pauldrons came off, her breastplate, her metal skirt. Then Dagur was coming around to her front, shoving aside the pile of armor with his foot.

“Why do you wear so many layers?” he asked, grabbing for her first layer of clothing.

“I’m on a boat filled with men I don’t know and you ask me why I wear so many layers?”

“Right, makes sense.” Dagur didn’t ask if this was okay after that, but he didn’t need to. Heather _wanted_ him to take her clothes off of her.

Her torso was bared, and Dagur got right to work touching it. He caressed her hips, her waist, took her breasts and squeezed. Heather moaned in need, leaned into him. His thumbs stroked her hardening nipples.

Dagur kissed her with an “mm”, still holding and massaging her breasts, and Heather adored it, even as her stomach rocked with guilt. Dagur was her brother. Then again, no one had actually told her it was wrong to be with a family member. Besides, they hadn’t grown up together, hadn’t seen each other in absolute ages. It wasn’t her fault she found him attractive. She didn’t know why she did, given that not much about him was actually attractive. There was something about his blunt ways, his anger, his frustration, that just dragged her in though.

It was Heather’s turn to take off armor, reaching for the buckles on Dagur’s. His wasn’t too complicated, and they parted for it to come off, and then he was tearing off his green tunic and casting it aside. They came back together, pressing heated flesh against one another, moaning and sighing with want and contentment into each other’s mouths. 

Heather felt over Dagur’s abdomen. His stomach wasn’t as muscled as she’d assumed it would be. She even found a spot that she would describe as soft. However, his chest was all hard muscle, broad and powerful. She felt it over, delighted sparks in her stomach and chest. She hadn’t realized just how long she’d been craving this, how much she’d truly wanted this.

Heather grabbed at Dagur’s belt, and it made her all hot to be taking it off. She’d had sex plenty of times, for both money and companionship on lonely nights, but she’d never really wanted someone as much as she’d wanted Dagur. This level of desire was entirely new to her.

It was awkward getting Dagur out of his boots, pants, and faulds, but eventually he was naked in front of her. Heather was impatient. She stuck a hand between his legs before she was completely out of her own clothes. 

He seemed average-sized, albeit thick, which was perfectly fine. He had a nice curve to him, and he was raging hard and hot. She felt his pulse through his cock, and it excited her. It was fast, demonstrating his eagerness for her. Her wetness was soaking through her pants.

“Fuck yes,” Dagur breathed at her hand on his cock. He massaged her hips, eyes closed for the moment. He was gasping, mouth open in the most alluring way. Heather came in, sucked and chewed on his bottom lip, and Dagur moaned rather loudly. She hoped that no one was down here taking a nap while they were off-duty. She doubted the walls were very thick.

The rest of Heather’s clothes came off, and Dagur’s hand copied hers, finding its place between her legs. He found her clit rather easily, demonstrating that he’d slept with women before. Heather sighed and bucked into his large fingers, loving the rough, calloused feel of them.

They didn’t say anything else as this continued. They were too engrossed in each other and the shared experience of sex. Dagur took her over to the bed, climbing on top of her and sliding into her. His thrusts were hard and ferocious, his hips no doubt leaving bruises on the insides of her thighs, but she loved it, felt like there was nothing else that could quell this ache inside of her, this yearning that was for him alone. It burned in both pain and pleasure, and gods, did she love it. She dug nails into his shoulders, drawing blood with them, and he seemed to like that, as his thrusts became more powerful. It was like he was trying to reach something so deep inside of her it wasn’t on the physical plane. This was the only way to do it, the only way he could truly get what he wanted and connect with her.

With the speed they went at, it was over quickly. Heather orgasmed a few minutes before Dagur, and then he was releasing into her with a deep, guttural moan that almost had her coming again. Though, she was satisfied without a second orgasm, let Dagur settle himself down beside her to rest, his huge chest heaving, her breasts rising and falling as her labored breaths matched his.

“That was incredible,” Dagur finally said after a long time in silence, after their breathing had almost calmed.

Guilt carving a hole through her chest and stomach. 

“It was.”


End file.
